


all the colors

by muchpretentious



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, is this fandom dead, ok its not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:57:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9212456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchpretentious/pseuds/muchpretentious
Summary: I had known him all my life. He did not break his promise.





	

I have known him all my life.

i.

He was diagnosed when we were twenty five years old.

Out of the two of us, it was I who was more shocked. My mouth was agape but he took the news eerily calm, too collected it scared the doctor. It was almost as if he had expected this. As he asked the doctor all the ways to prolong his life expectancy, his hand reached for my hand and it started to draw circles, a nervous tic that reassured me.

I noted how his hand was clammy and warm against mine, alive.

Later, he insisted that something as boring as cancer could go fuck itself because he was going to keep his promise.

.

(He was the star of our high school’s football team. When one of the jocks asked why would he let a pest follow him around, I questioned it myself. When he punched the poor guy on the face, I decided I did not need to hear his answer.

I was not there for that myself, but none of his men dared to look at me in the eyes for weeks.)

 

ii.

He was nothing if not resilient.

Lady luck was on his side because it was discovered early, so he did all that the doctors ordered. Even more. Gathering all the resources he could get his hands on, he put up a best fight cancer had ever seen. His optimism was infectious, the doctors of his team were positive he could actually be one of those survivors.

He bragged that to all his friends when they poked fun on his new flock of fans consisted of the nurses, charm never lost.

But on the nights when the tolls got the better of him, he cried in my arms. I wrapped him tightly as if he were about to slip away at any seconds.

 

"I am keeping my promise. I am."

And I believe him for that.

.

 

(The prettiest girl in our year asked me to be her date for Sadie Hawkins.

She was a friend, a nice and humble person. We had studied together before, and sometimes, she accompanied me when I went cheering on his numerous matches. Her skin was the color of chocolate and red danced across her freckled cheeks. Perhaps I had missed something.

She smiled and shook her head before I could give her an answer.

"That's okay. If by the day he hasn't got his head out of his ass, we can go together as friend supporting friend."

She ended up being a fun date. She did not even mind when he stole me to dance at the football field.)

.

iii.

His mother came to me.

"How are you faring?"

I thought she should have asked about her son instead, he was the one battling, but I guessed she had a point. My co-workers often commented on my eye bags. My highly lackluster skills in charming the people would not be able to take another blow according to them, but while I appreciated their sentiment, I could not sympathize. 

"He is going to win this."

Her smile was identical to what I usually saw plastered on her son's face when he got exasperated due to some of humanity's more ridiculous antics. I got the message, why did I state the obvious?  
.  
.

(Our mothers were best friends, they went to the same club activities and clicked immediately when they realized their due dates weren't that far from each other. I ended up disappointing them, I came prematurely, but that did not discourage them from their dreams of us getting along.

"See? Your best friend. Say hi."

He pulled my hair and made me cry. That was my first memory of him.)

.  
.

iv.  
He was going for another surgery. I was the one pacing, restless from worry. He frowned and ordered me to sit down.

"Relax. In the mean while, you can buy me flowers instead."

His lips were chapped and white, but he looked like he could take on the world here and then.

.

("Why are you so obsessed with the flower?"

"I can relate with the guy. I, too, want you to always remember me.")

 

. 

 

v.

"How can you be smiling so brightly?"

The lights in the bar were dimmed, creating a fitting atmosphere for the gentle melody being crooned. He stood on the stage with his guitar, singing about life, hope, and other sappy generic nonsense. It was enchanting, the way he could rapidly capture every attention in the room, commanding them to his will. The rapt applause was the least they could give him, people were eager to get a piece of him.

It had been four years since his diagnosis. He never backed down even once.

He was beautiful.

"I am alive, aren't I?"

And I loved him so much for that.  
.  
.

(A lady at a carnival we went to on our high school senior year told us that he was destined not for a long life. He got quiet. But he then paid and thanked her for her service before quipping that being wrinkled had never been in his agenda.

Later I asked him who would accompany me in my small cottage on my lonely old days if that was what he planned on.

"I am going to outlive you, that's a promise."

I did not doubt it.)

.

vi.

So when the car collided with my body, all I could think about was how the forget-me-not would not come in time for the ending of his performance. I hoped he forgive me.

He did not break his promise after all.

.

**Author's Note:**

> wowza look at me..... finally writing..... after 7 long years.
> 
> okay, forgive me for any mistakes, english is not my first language. actually, i would appreciate it if someone is willing to beta this.
> 
> second, is this fandom dead? well, if not do leave a comment. since this is my first work and i am in extra need of validation before i decide to chicken out and never write again ugh.


End file.
